


ghost drift

by skatzaa



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Hopeful Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 07:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18517036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: Short scenes from the apocalypse. Because even the end of the world won't keep people from living.





	ghost drift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Lombax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Lombax/gifts).



> This wasn't the story I set out to write, but I had a lot of fun with it nonetheless! It's funny how the plot bunnies take over sometimes, despite our best intentions. More of a glimpse into this possible world than anything else, but it has a lot of potential for the future. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_ Ani-and-Rex _ bring their fist down on Cataclysm’s big ugly head, sending it staggering. One of them whoops with adrenaline-fueled joy—maybe both, hell if Anakin knows.

“Plasma cannon charged,” the computer informs them. Anakin feels his lips curl, knows Rex is mirroring him perfectly, and they bring Rebel’s cannon up and around, firing round after round into Cataclysm’s side. The reverb pulses its way through their bones, heady and addictive. There’s  _ nothing _ like a jaeger and he loves it.

The kaiju reels back and sinks beneath the waves, leaving nothing but a trail of kaiju blue in its wake. It’s dead, they know it’s dead, their aim was as perfect as always, but it doesn’t even take a thought to know they won’t turn their back yet. The attack that downed Cosmic Serenity and killed one of her pilots is still fresh in their mind.

“LOCCENT?” Rex asks.

Static through the comm, then: “Stand down, Rebel Fury. It’s done.”

Anakin breathes out, and to his right he knows Rex is smiling.

“Copy that, LOCCENT,” Anakin says. He feels giddy with another take down. Rebel’s barely even scratched; she won’t need much time in the bay before they can be deployed again. Rex’s enthusiasm leeches into his own, creating a feedback loop that’ll keep Anakin going until they get back to the Shatterdome, even after the adrenaline is gone. “Requesting a lift back.”

“You got it, Rebel Fury. Standby.” It’s Fives through the comm, Rex’s certainty of it is all Anakin needs to believe it. He still has a hard time telling all of Rex’s family apart over the radio, sometimes.

Rex snorts, picking up on Anakin’s thoughts as quickly as he thinks them. With all appearances of seriousness, he says, “That’s racist, Ani.” It’s ruined by the amusement coloring the drift.

Anakin rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

_ Weak comeback _ , they both think, then share a brief burst of satisfaction at the synchronization. They settle back into the openness of the drift and wait for the choppers.

They’re always starving after a drop, and Anakin doesn’t have to glance at Rex to know he’s following him to the mess. Some J-techs stop them in the hall to congratulate them on the kill, but otherwise they arrive unscathed. 

Shmi’s doing a rotation in the mess hall this month, so she’s the one who drops mashed potatoes on his plate without so much as looking at him, her thoughts clearly a million miles away. She’s always worried when they get deployed.

“Mom?” he says, Rex steady at his side as always. Anakin can feel the impression of him in the back of his mind, his quiet amusement and growing exhaustion.

Shmi’s eyes snap to his. “Ani! You’re safe.”

He has a feeling she would try to hug him if she hasn’t still holding the mashed potato ladle. 

“It’ll take more than a little Category III to take us down, ma’am,” Rex says. He’s never quite kicked the habit of calling Shmi ma’am, no matter how much time he spends in Anakin’s head. 

“It’s good to see you both,” Shmi says, giving Rex a warm smile. Anakin feels a ghost of the same warmth curling through Rex’s mind. She shoos them off, adding, “Go on now. You need to eat before you crash.”

Anakin leans over the counter to drop a kiss on his mom’s cheek before he lets Rex lead him further down the line, a hand on his elbow.

They eat as quickly as they can at a table with some of the other pilots—Depa’s arm is still in a sling, and Obi-Wan has a black eye from his and Anakin’s sparring match the day before. None of them talk much, but that’s alright. Of all the people in the Shatterdome, it’s the other pilots that understand the best when someone wants to discuss a drop or not.

Once they’re done, Anakin loops his arm around Rex’s back and they stumble back to their bunk, the last of the high from the drift fading away. They don’t need words to know they’ll both end up sprawled together in Rex’s bottom bunk, but then again, they rarely do these days.

A buzz from the intercom startles Anakin awake. His arm and leg are thrown over Rex’s back and he feels a little hazy still from what he thinks was a shared dream. 

Again, the intercom. Beneath him, Rex grumbles and tries to shift, which results in Anakin on the floor. He groans, tries to ignore the throbbing in his tailbone, then levers himself up and goes over to the unit.

“Skywalker,” he says, finger on the button. 

“Are you available to debrief?” It’s Plo Koon, his voice even deeper than normal.

Anakin glances at Rex, still asleep in bed, then at the clock. He grimaces; they both could do with a few extra hours, but Marshal Windu waits for no man.

“Yes sir. We’ll report to the Marshal’s office in thirty minutes.”

Plo lets him sign off with little fuss. It’s one of the things Anakin likes most about the man. He steps back toward the bed, trails his fingers down the bare skin of Rex’s back. Rex makes a soft sound and turns toward Anakin.

“Time to wake up. Gotta debrief with Windu,” Anakin says softly, and keeps moving his hand until Rex stirs and cracks one eye open. He’s the picture of displeasure, but he knows as well as Anakin does that this can’t be put off.

It is with obvious reluctance that Rex pulls himself out of bed and trudges through his routine to get ready. The sooner this is over with, the sooner they can get back to bed.

They don’t go back to bed after. Instead, they find themselves sitting on a catwalk across from Rebel in her bay. Anakin kicks his feet through the open air and props his chin on the railing, staring out at her as their J-techs work to fix the damages Cataclysm inflicted.

The last of the ghost drift has faded, but Anakin doesn’t need it to know what Rex is thinking.

He says, “It’ll never work.”

Rex hums. “Don’t be too sure. Echo’s been crunching the numbers and he thinks it’s our best bet so far.”

Anakin reaches out and links their fingers together. He rubs his thumb over the back of Rex’s hand.

“It hasn’t worked before.”

Rex squeezes his hand before sighing.

Obviously, the whole point of this—the PPDC, the Shatterdome, the jaegers, everything—has been to protect the cities, and to find a way to close the Breach. He wants to end the kaiju as much as the next person, there’s no denying that. But there’s a not insignificant part of him that doesn’t want to give up the drift, the connection he has with Rex that’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before.

“I know,” Rex says, without Anakin having to say a word. “But the world can’t move on until they’re gone, for good.”

He’s right, as usual. 

Anakin twists and leans over until he can press a kiss to Rex’s temple, his peach fuzz hair soft against his lips. They’ll run the bomb. And maybe, if they’re lucky, they’ll come out the other side and learn to live without the drift.

Sitting here with Rex at his side, it doesn’t sound so bad after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't be surprised if you see more of this universe; I can't promise anything, but I can also see inspiration hitting to write more of this. Comments and kudos are always appreciated but never required.
> 
> Read on


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